Restoration
by Raphiael
Summary: It was the stuff fairy tales were made from, the sort of thing bards would sing of for years to come. It was possibly the most perfect thing Ephraim had ever orchestrated. Ephraim-centric, includes Seth/Eirika.


**Author's note:** Uh yeah, so this is sort of a branch from Ephraim's letter in _Through These Nights_. I wanted to explore what he might be like, and what the whole continent might be looking like, at the end of the game. And it turned into a wedding. Somehow.

Yeah.

Anyway, it's in the same little continuity as the story it branched from, so I guess it's like. . . a fun extra chapter, that's not really related enough to get into the story itself. That seems about right. In any event, enjoy.

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It was exactly what Renais needed: a love story. A romantic tale of true love between a knight and his princess, born from the ashes of a ruined castle and a shattered peace. It was the stuff fairy tales were made from, the sort of thing bards would sing of for years to come. It was possibly the most perfect thing Ephraim had ever orchestrated.

For all her regal bearing and diplomatic smile, the life of a queen was never one for his sister. Of course, she did marvelously with pleasantries – faking a smile for a noble she disliked, allowing a dance with a clumsy partner. These things were easy. Easier still, the way she shone when there was talk of _restoration_ and _peace_ and _hope_ for Magvel. These were concepts she loved as well as anyone should, but the life of a queen would hardly be focused on such things.

Eirika would always knit her eyebrows when she heard talk of border patrols at Serafew, let out pained sighs when supplies for Grado's restoration were redirected to Renais' own failing countryside, wince when Ephraim insisted on word from the spies placed within the old empire's burgeoning new government. This would be the life of a "restoration queen", far from the image of hope and prosperity he fought to keep alive for both of them.

"I'd thought, with the war over, we'd be true allies with Grado again," she'd say, or something to that effect. Not out of naivete, anymore – more out of longing for simpler times, times when the kings of Magvel were like brothers, and their children all the best of friends. Times when "alliance" meant something other than spies and suspicion. That was a fairy tale Ephraim could not make true, not for his sister, not for his kingdom. This, though, this he could give them.

This – the streets of Renvall alive with music, the castle grounds opened for the entire surrounding city, the heavy smell of hot cross buns and wild orchids in the air, the streets crowded with people from every walk of life and corner of the country. The inns were more than happy for the business, and the vendors, he'd heard, could barely keep up with the demand for favors and trinkets.

More than that: Ephraim could give them all a knight clad in green to offset the red of his hair, smiling, for once, even though his arm would never quite hang right, and he'd never forget the faces of men he'd lost in the war. He could give them a princess dressed in one of her mother's crimson gowns, with flowers tied in her long hair, standing in the center of the lush castle courtyard and trying not to tear up before the ceremony even started.

Of course, he hadn't been blind to his knight's affections for his sister before the war. They were plain as day, in the way he asked of her welfare on the days he didn't see her, the way he stared for just a moment when she entered the room, the way his face lit up when they had a moment to speak to each other. It hadn't been _perfect_ before- Eirika would marry a prince or a noble; Seth would serve Fado until death. But now, no typical wedding would do. An alliance with Frelia would be strengthened by a union with Innes, but such a thing was hardly romantic. Innes had not carried his princess from a castle under siege, or taken a ghastly wound in his arm for her sake. Nor was he known for his courageous spirit and way with young recruits. Seth was all of those things, and more. Saying "yes" to his request for Eirika's hand had been the easiest decision of Ephraim's life.

As for himself, Ephraim had little worth as a beacon of hope. His father's dress robes were too heavy for his frame, still so used to the lightweight clothes of a carefree prince. Unlike his vassal, he'd found no fairy tale princess amidst the chaos. There was Tana, or there had been, but he'd never wish the life he foresaw for himself on her. She was too much like Eirika, with her optimism and cheer, her insistence on seeing the best in everyone. It was best for her to stay in her own country. Frelia, at least, could rest easy, with only its one tower, now devoid of purpose, to rebuild – nowhere near as grim as the outlook for his own land. Surely, even now, Innes would poke fun at the patches of gray already starting in his hair, the creases at his lips and forehead, the dark circles around his sharp eyes.

_"You look like an old man, Ephraim."_ Perhaps that was fitting for a king.

The jubilation around the courtyard was drowned out by the abrupt commencement of chanting and prayers, all carefully chosen to avoid mention of sacred stones or long-past wars. Instead, the priest at the forefront spoke of unification, of bonding, of rebirth, as Seth approached his bride. Their hands were tied together in the traditional fashion, slim, dainty wrist pressed tight against thick, tanned one as ancient words about eternal love and devotion were read – the same ones that had would be read at Innes' upcoming wedding, and eventually at Ephraim's own. It was only when the words trailed off that the knight bent down to kiss his princess, and the crowd began to cheer again – loud enough now that Ephraim's ears rang and his head ached nearly as much as his tired feet. It was to this that Ephraim took the stand, to speak to his people, the people who needed him most.

"Let this union be a message to all of Magvel," he began, voice far stronger to the listeners than it sounded to himself. "Let it be a message that even after the most harrowing war, our people- all of those here, not only from Renais, but from Frelia, Jehanna, Rausten, and yes, even Grado, can all stand here, together, to celebrate. Let it be a message that _nothing_ shall ever shake the bonds of the alliances we have held for centuries. And most of all, let it be a message that even in the darkest times, there is hope for new beginnings, like the one now shared by my sister and her husband."

His words felt sloppier than they'd looked on paper, but no one seemed to mind. The cheers grew louder, and there were chants of his own name, his sister's, his general's, his country's.

He could only pray that this "alliance" did not feel as hollow to the rest of them as it did to him. The royals present seemed not to notice; all cheered with the rest of the crowd, put on a good show of being optimistic, at least. Even if it was all false, it didn't matter. For now, Renais' people had their fairy tale, and it would do them far more good than the dealings of a tired "restoration king" ever would.


End file.
